Small Comfort
by SciFiJ
Summary: After Sheppard makes a surprising return after weeks missing, will the team be able to heal the apparent psychological damage? And why is he so attached to that tiny little kitten?
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hey all! This story just popped into my head while cuddling with my new kitten. It's plotless and silly I know, but I hope you enjoy anyway. :) No beta, so forgive any mistakes. Takes place during any time Carson was the doc, because I love him. :)_

Chapter 1

The incoming wormhole alert blared through Atlantis' speaker system, causing Rodney to simultaneously choke on his muffin and spill his steaming cup of coffee all over his hand. He sputtered angrily as he increased his pace to the gate room. He turned a corner and nearly collided with Elizabeth Weir, who was also on her way to see what was going on.

They jogged up the steps, and Elizabeth immediately asked for information. Chuck the gate tech looked at his screen in disbelief, then back at her. "It's...it's Colonel Sheppard's IDC ma'am."

Rodney neared dropped his muffin, for the second time in about a minute. "Lower the shield!" Elizabeth ordered. Chuck hit that command on his control station, and McKay turned to look down at the event horizon. Sheppard...alive? He'd be missing for almost a month now, and they had all assumed the worst. Elizabeth radioed for a medical team to get to the gate room. A few seconds of hushed silence filled the expansive room, and a skinny figure slowly stepped through. John Sheppard looked like he'd been through hell and back several times. His left arm hung uselessly at his side, his face covered in bruises and half-healed cuts. One eye was almost swollen shut. His standard black t-shirt was ripped and dirty, showing bruises and other injuries on his skinnier-than-usual torso. He held his right arm carefully to his side. Rodney couldn't believe his eyes. He and Elizabeth slowly approached the injured man, who looked warily at them. "John? Do you remember me?" Elizabeth asked. The Colonel looked at her carefully guarded, then after a moment, nodded slightly. "'Lizabeth," he whispered. She smiled encouragingly. Just then Carson emerged with his medical team, shock registering on his face when he saw who his patient was. Elizabeth turned back to face John, this time close enough to reach out and gently place her hand on his arm. He startled a little at her touch. She motioned to Carson. He carefully approached, setting down his bag at the Colonel's feet. "Aye lad, you gave us all a good scare. Do ya think I could have a look at ya now? See if we can't get you fixed up in a soft bed to rest and feel better." Sheppard's eyes met the doctor's with a startling amount of clarity for someone in his condition. He nodded his permission, and promptly collapsed into Carson's arms. Beckett and his assistant carefully laid the injured man down on the waiting stretcher. A tiny squeak made everyone pause, and Carson stared in disbelief. Out from under the Colonel's shirt, wriggled the smallest kitten he'd ever seen. The tiny creature stared up at Carson with scared round eyes, and quickly scuttled back under the safety of John's arm. The doctor turned to Elizabeth, wondering if she'd seen what he had. She looked as surprised as everyone. He looked back down at his patient. "Aye, well that's something you don't see every day. Right, let's get to the infirmary and get him under the Ancient scanner." They quickly headed out of the gate room, Rodney and Elizabeth close behind.

~~~SGA~~~

Rodney paced around the waiting room, not good at the "waiting" part. Elizabeth's radio clicked once, and Carson's pleasant brogue came through. "Lass, do ya think you could come help me with a wee problem?" Elizabeth replied she was on her way, and shrugged at Rodney on her way out. Rodney decided he would run to his lab to get a laptop to actually do some work while waiting instead of wearing a hole in the floor with his pacing. He nearly ran headfirst into the large solid wall that was Ronon Dex. "When did you guys get back?" he asked, surprised. Teyla smiled slightly sadly. "We received word of Colonel Sheppard's return, and came immediately." Ronon grunted in agreement. "How is he?" Rodney plopped down in the nearest chair. "Carson hasn't said anything yet, except that he needed Elizabeth's help with 'a wee problem,'" he replied. "Guess what Sheppard brought through the gate with him? A tiny kitten! Wonder where he found it. I didn't even know Sheppard liked cats." Teyla looked confused, and Ronon just looked stoic, like usual. Just then Elizabeth emerged, holding a tiny bundle of fur wrapped in a towel. Rodney's mouth fell open. "That was the wee problem?" Dr Weir nodded, and sat down next to Rodney. "John seemed to be comforted by this little thing, but Carson needed her out of the way. She dug her claws in, not wanting to leave her rescuer I guess." She stroked the small kitten's head with her finger, and the round eyes stared up at her, looking forlorn. "Don't worry little one," Elizabeth whispered, "he will be alright." The kitten seemed to understand, and let out a quiet purr. Just then a nurse, whose name was Leah, popped her head into the room, and motioned to Elizabeth. "Dr Beckett requests that you bring the kitten back. We can't get Colonel Sheppard to relax without her next to him." Elizabeth stood quickly and followed her, leaving the rest of Sheppard's team staring after her. Following the nurse down the corridor to the infirmary, they stopped at the entrance. "We'll need you to wash up and put on scrubs ma'am," Leah said gently. Elizabeth nodded, and followed her to the changing room. She placed the tiny bundle of fur into a box Leah supplied, and quickly scrubbed her hands and arms. She turned and Leah handed her a clean towel to dry off, and then helped her put on gloves and a long sleeved scrub top. "Looks like you're ready ma'am," Leah said with a smile. "Follow me." Dr Weir nodded and picked up the small bundle, and headed after the nurse. They turned the corner into Carson's exam room, to see a very distraught looking Colonel Sheppard, weakly thrashing about on his bed, mumbling and crying out. Elizabeth was shocked at the sight. Dr Beckett saw she had arrived and motioned her closer. "Colonel, listen to me. I have your kitten right here. Now can you stay still for me?" John's eyes blearily tried to meet Carson's, and he relaxed slightly. Elizabeth stepped forward and placed the tiny kitten on Sheppard's chest. The little ball of fur let out a very loud meow of happiness, and immediately curled herself against John's neck, purring. The pure relief on his face made Elizabeth want to cry, and she was sure she saw a tear track its way down Sheppard's cheek. She turned away and Carson led her to a nearby chair. "He's not completely with us lass," he said quietly. "I can't imagine what he's been through, emotionally. The physical trauma alone would be enough to fell a lesser man." Elizabeth nodded, not wanting to let any tears fall. Carson patted her leg. "I'll fetch the rest of his team, and fill you all in on his condition."

She smiled in reply and followed him to the Observation room, and the rest of Sheppard's friends filed in a moment later. Ronon stood at the window looking down on the pale form on the bed. "How is he Doc?" he rumbled. Dr Beckett clicked a few buttons on his data pad, and cleared his throat. "Aye, well, this is a long list. Broken left collarbone, cracked sternum. Bullet wound in left shoulder, several days old I'd say. Nasty infection there. Dislocated left shoulder. Several cracked metacarpals in his left hand. Six broken ribs. Cracked jaw, probably why he hasn't wanted talk much." He paused to rub his eyes. "Raging fever, numerous cuts that required a grand total of 79 stitches and/or staples. His right knee was severely twisted at some point, resulting in multiple major muscle tears. Lastly a severe concussion."

The physician looked up at his patient's worried friends. "Now I can't even begin to access his mental state. Several of his injuries look intentional, like he was beaten." Ronon's face darkened and he suddenly smashed his fist onto the table, startling everyone. Dr Beckett eyed the big man calmly. "Sit down Ronon. We will find who did this to Colonel Sheppard, and we will make them pay. In the meantime, we need to help him heal."

Ronon sat down, but didn't look any less angry. Carson continued, "His attachment to that wee kitten has me baffled. I can only assume he turned to it for a small comfort while captured, or on the run, whatever happened." Ronon met his eyes, anger simmering near the surface. "So what now Doc?"

Dr Beckett sighed, wishing he had a better response. "We wait. His shoulder needs another surgery, but that will have to wait until he's a little stronger. I need him to be a little more alert before I can say for sure."

Teyla chimed in quietly, "I would like to sit with him Dr Beckett, if that is alright with you." Carson smiled at her. "Of course lass. I figured one or all of ya would ask. I'll get ye a chair and ye can take turns sitting with him." He stood up and tried to stifle a yawn, quite unsuccessfully. He gazed around at the concerned faces sitting at the table. "I won't lie or sugarcoat anythin' about his condition to ya. It's very serious. But with lots of support and care I think he'll make it." The worried mood in the room eased slightly, and Carson left to check on his patient. It would definitely be a long road for the Colonel, but the good doctor had no doubt that his team would help John every step of the way.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Welllll I originally wanted this to be a one-shot, but it got away from me, again. Ahem. This chapter is 3000 or so words! *shocked face* Any errors are probably due to my overactive brain ;) Thanks to AriseIcarus (I love your name!), Guest 64, Dernhelm62, VampsonCrack, and Myrtille94 for the sweet reviews. Onwards we go!_

Chapter 2

It had now been almost two weeks since Sheppard had made his miraculous return, and he still was silent as a church mouse. Rodney really couldn't understand it. The man was normally annoying Carson to be released from the infirmary long before now, and yet he seemed content to just sit and stare at the wall or play with that little cat. Beckett didn't really know what to do, other than hope that Dr Heightmeyer would be able to reach him somehow. One thing Rodney had noticed was that Sheppard was very skittish around almost everyone, and he asked permission for everything. He had even asked McKay if he could sit up farther in bed one day. That had shook Rodney to his core. What had those monsters done to his best friend? They still didn't even know where he'd been, or who kept him captive. All Rodney remembered from that mission was the four of them walking to meet some villagers, and then being attacked out of nowhere. They fought like crazy to get back to the gate, only to see Sheppard go down and not make it through. Upon immediate return to the planet, there was no sign of Sheppard or anyone for that matter. Rodney had searched the DHD's address log, and they had sent teams to every planet they could get a lock on, and nothing. After two weeks of looking, Elizabeth had formally declared Colonel Sheppard MIA, and that had pretty much destroyed the last glimmer of McKay's hope. Ronon and Teyla refused to stop searching, and they continued visiting every human world they knew of, even offering a reward for their leader's safe return. Rodney had retreated to his lab, not wanting to face the fact that his best friend was probably dead. Alone, light years away from his friends. The sadness that gripped him in the days that followed was hard to shake. He could barely sleep, haunted by nightmares that consisted of Sheppard accusing Rodney of abandoning him to die alone. McKay didn't know how to deal with the guilt and grief, so he immersed himself in his work. Day and night, he was in his lab, either fitfully trying to sleep, or staring at his laptop screen. Now that Sheppard was back, and safe, Rodney still didn't have a clue what to do. He had tried making friendly conversation with the Colonel, but the injured man was wary of everything he did. He suddenly had an idea. Maybe Sheppard needed something to take his mind off things. He quickly dug around his lab and pulled out the remote control car he'd been working on. He meant it to be a surprise for Sheppard's birthday, but Rodney figured now was the best time to give it to him. He clicked his radio. "Teyla this is Rodney. Could you meet me in my lab?"

She responded promptly and Rodney set to work putting the finishing touches on the car. Teyla arrived with a questioning look on her face. "I think Sheppard needs some semblance of normalcy to get back to being himself," he explained. "What could be more normal for him than racing things that go fast and are loud?"

Teyla smiled, still looking a little confused but following. "And what did you require my assistance with Dr McKay?" she asked succinctly.

Rodney snapped his fingers. "Oh right. Well I figured I could fix it up for him and you could wrap it up so it looks . . . you know. . . pretty."

Teyla smiled again, touched by Rodney's caring gesture. "Of course I will help you wrap it," she said quietly, placing her hand on his arm. "I am grateful Colonel Sheppard has a friend like you Rodney," she added. He smiled back, appreciating her words. They would get their friend through this, whatever it took.

~~~SGA~~~

John sat up abruptly, shaking from his latest nightmare. His kitten sat on his lap, looking him in the eyes, and purred comfortingly. Thankfully it was the middle of the night, so no one heard him. He calmed his breathing, and wiped the sweat off his forehead. He couldn't really explain why she was able to calm him so much, he just knew that she did. He really tried hard to be strong, to be the military commander he knew he was, but those 'people' had beaten him every time he tried to speak or do anything without asking. It was rather hard to just undo the 'training' they had put him through. His physical wounds were healing, albeit too slowly for his liking, but it was progress all the same. He still didn't feel safe in the unsecured infirmary, so he had quietly asked Carson to post a guard outside each entrance and exit. The kind doctor had done it without asking questions, for which John was extremely grateful. He hated feeling the fear and anxiety all the time. He zoned back into the present when the kitten playfully bit his finger. She was the only thing that was able to make him smile. He thought back to when he was trapped in that awful cell, too cramped to move around at all. One miserable day, his captors had just finished punching the daylights out of him because he didn't say 'please' after asking for water, and he lay in the corner of his cell, tears flowing freely because he couldn't stand being alive another minute, and because he knew his team would never be able to find him. The tiny little creature had wandered her way into his cell, and climbed onto his chest. He stopped and just stared at her little round face, and she meowed quietly, as if greeting him. He just sat there in shock, as she proceeded to lick his tears, and then curl up his shoulder. It was like she chose him. And he was grateful for the company. The next day they tried to take her from him, and he fought like he'd never fought before in his life. He would not let them take the one remaining thing that he cared about away from him. Another brutal beating followed, and he was honestly surprised he woke up at all the next morning. And there she was, sitting beside his head as he lay on the cold cell floor, too hurt to move. He was so happy to see her that he momentarily forgot his injuries. And so it went for four more days. Beatings, ridicule, forced labor. And on the 5th day, he got his chance. They sent only one guard to fetch him from his cell, and the idiot was careless. He turned his back on his prisoner, the last mistake he'd ever make. He fell forward silently, his own knife lodged between his shoulder blades. John stood above him, chest heaving from the effort of staying upright. He grabbed the kitten and tucked her inside his torn shirt. Removing the guard's weapons and boots, he carefully made his way through the dark cave-like compound. He knew he needed his gear back, but he couldn't remember why. Almost a month with an awful concussion would do that to a guy. He stealthily made his way outside, and snuck along the wall to see his captors' campsite, about 20 feet away. He took the kitten out of his shirt, and placed her safely in a little hole under the bunker's foundation. "I'll be back," he whispered. There was a total of 7 enemies, now six, after he had taken care of the one sent to fetch him. He hid around the corner, waiting for one of the others to check on their comrade. It didn't take long, and he heard the leader bark an order at one of his soldiers, and he heard footsteps approaching. He crouched down, readying himself. The soldier turned the corner, and Sheppard had him by the throat, choking the life out of him. He jerked his arm, and the soldier fell to the ground with a snapped neck. John recognized his own gun that the soldier was using, and he quickly picked it up. His chest burned from exhaustion, the pressure from squeezing the soldier had done a number on his already broken ribs. He really wanted to lay down and rest, but that wasn't an option. He still had five enemies to deal with. He slipped back inside the bunker and looked through a crack in the rotted wooden door, and saw two more approaching. It was now or never. He checked the magazine on his P90, and was relieved to find it full. That gave him 50 rounds to work with. He flipped the gun into semiautomatic mode, because he wanted his shots to count, and to conserve ammo. He braced the gun against his right shoulder, thankfully not the shoulder that hurt, and took aim at the first enemy. He pulled the trigger, and the soldier fell to the ground with a hole in his forehead. That sent the others scrambling for cover, but John was too skilled with his weapon. Two more fell before reaching cover. The leader and the guy Sheppard assumed was his 2IC, made it to safety behind two large trees. They returned heavy fire, and John was forced to duck down away from his spot by the door. He calmly checked his weapon, content to let them waste their ammo. After a moment, they stopped, and John lept into a kneeling position, and fired two quick bursts on auto mode. By the time they continued firing, he was down again. They soon realized they were wasting ammo and slowed their pace. Sheppard used that to his advantage, and crawled to a different spot in the small bunker on his elbows. They kept firing at where he used to be, and he let off another burst, and the 2IC fell backwards with a scream. John let out a pained gasp. He really didn't feel good. And there was one enemy left. The leader, the guy who had beaten him senseless repeatedly. He checked his gun one more time, and took a deep breath, which sounded more like a wheezing gasp. He stood slowly, zeroing in on his target, and fired two quick shots. The leader fell, yelling and grabbing at both of his legs. Sheppard stood and carefully made his way outside the bunker, toward the evil man who had made his life a living hell for weeks. The soldier was begging pitifully for mercy. When those attempts failed, he grabbed his gun and got off a shot. John barely felt the bullet slam into his already hurting left shoulder, because his consciousness was already consisting of pure harsh pain. He continued walking forward, his eyes locked on his enemy. He fired one shot and it hit the leader's gun hand, and his weapon went flying. The pathetic excuse of a man continued his begging, and John knelt beside him, jerking his head up by his hair. "Did you show me mercy?" he ground out. The leader shook his head as much as he could while contained in John's vice-like grip. "Where is the Stargate?" Sheppard demanded, his voice devoid of emotion. The leader sniffled and said, "If I tell you will you show mercy?"

John said nothing, his eyes showing the fury he felt. "The Stargate is due east," the leader mumbled. "But it takes days on foot. Now please, show mercy and let me live." Sheppard released his hold on the man's hair and stood. The leader's eyes lit up with hope, just before a new hole appeared between them. He fell back bonelessly. John turned and sank to the ground, his chest heaving with misery and disgust. He hadn't wanted to pull the trigger, but it was as if his hands had acted alone.

He stood slowly, his body trembling from pain and blood loss. He stumbled over to where he left the kitten, relieved to find her still there. She meowed in greeting, and he scooped her into his arms. He walked back toward the campsite, and dug around until he found what he was looking for: a small handheld device with a small screen and keyboard. He knew it was vitally important, so he stuffed it in his pocket. He found two powerbars, and a full canteen of water, which he gulped greedily. The water tasted better than anything he'd ever drank. He looked up at the sky, and tried to determine which way was east. It was difficult because the sun was setting, and he was dizzy from exhaustion and pain. He scooped up his supplies and set out, at a slow wobbling pace. Before long it was the middle of the night, and he was beyond exhausted. He pitched forward and landed somewhat softly on a pile of wet leaves. The kitten wriggled her way out from under him, and sat by his head, meowing loudly and licking him, trying to wake him up. He didn't stir, so she just curled up under his chin and slept.

Morning dawned a few hours later, and Sheppard woke with a start. He looked around with bleary eyes, trying to make sense of his surroundings. He wasn't in a cell anymore, he remembered happily. But his wounds quickly reminded him that they needed attention. He slowly sat up, realizing he was beside a creek. Who knew if the water was safe or not, he didn't have the strength to care. He leaned his head over and gulped a few mouthfuls. It didn't taste bad, so he refilled his canteen. The kitten delicately stepped her way onto a little rock beside him, and drank as well. "What should I name you little one?" John asked her quietly. "I can't keep calling you 'kitten.'" Wouldn't Rodney be enjoying this, Sheppard thought. He was talking to a freakin' cat. He tried to come up with a name, but his head hurt too much to really put much effort into it. He ripped open one of his powerbars and took a bite. While his captors hadn't starved him, they really didn't give him enough food to sustain a child, let alone a grown man. He was incredibly weak from hunger, and even chewing hurt. He managed to eat half of it before his stomach rebelled and wouldn't accept more. He wrapped up the rest and put it back in his pocket. "Sorry I don't have anything to give you little one," he told the kitten. She tilted her head and mewed softly, like she understood. He dug out a field bandage and began wrapping it around the bullet hole in his shoulder. He knew the bullet was still in there, because he could feel it grinding against the bone. Carson would have a lot of work to do when he made it home. _IF_ he made it home. He wearily stood, and and resumed his slow painful pace. The kitten purred contentedly against his chest, somehow managing to hang on without scratching him. By some miracle her purring helped him block out most of the pain, and just keep walking. But by nightfall he was so out of it he could hardly see straight. He slumped to the ground, and just let out a long groan. He was so beyond exhausted, he didn't think he could open his eyes. He tried to fight the oblivion pulling him, knowing he had a tiny friend to take care of now. His body gave out, and he slept.

~~~SGA~~~

He awoke the next morning with a fever. His body shook from tremors. He managed to push himself up on one elbow, and open his canteen. He downed a few gulps, and poured more over his head. It felt like heaven. Feeling a tad bit better, he looked around, realizing the kitten was gone. He called for her in a panic, trying to get up on his knees. Gasping from the effort, he looked up and there she was, dragging a squirrel-like creature that was bigger than she was. He choked out a laugh at the sight. "You went out and made your own dinner huh?" he said, trying to keep from laughing more, because it _hurt._ She dropped her catch proudly and puffed her chest fur out. He gave her a good pat on the head and she resumed her meal. He dug out the remainder of his powerbar and forced himself to eat. The taste made him want to gag, but he knew he needed the energy it provided. After sipping some more water, he decided it was time to keep going. He still had no idea if he was going in the right direction, but he didn't care. He got up and kept going. Hour after hour, he stumbled on. Every inch of his body seemed to burn and ache. His shoulder had gone numb, so that was sort of a relief, though he knew it probably wasn't good. He had long since dropped his gear, because he didn't have the strength to carry it anymore. Suddenly, the kitten meowed loudly from her perch on his shoulder and he looked up. The Stargate loomed not even 15 feet in front of him. He fell to his knees and nearly cried with relief. He hobbled forward to the DHD, and pulled out the little keyboard device. He was hoping he'd remember the address he needed, or what he needed the device for, before now. He just stared at the DHD in front of him and tried to force his addled brain to cooperate. His hands seemed to move of their own accord, and the gate activated. He then stared at the device in his hands. It came flooding back. Alpha-Charlie-Delta-Blue-8-3-5-7-6-1. His IDC! He forced his hands to clumsily type in the code, and after a moment, the device vibrated with his code confirmation. He let out a sob. Home. He was finally going home.

 _A/N2: I just made up a code because I don't know if the show ever mentions what they are, or if they are a mix of letters and numbers like I wrote, so forgive my creative license :)._


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: I'm super duper happy with chapter 2. It was sooo long! Here's a short chapter to wrap things up. I hope you enjoy! :)_

Chapter 3

Rodney sat in his lab staring at his laptop. The project he was working on didn't make any sense, mostly because his brain wasn't paying much attention. He had finished the car for Sheppard, and was waiting on Teyla to wrap it up nicely. He grunted in frustration and pushed his chair away from the table. He _needed_ Sheppard to be okay. He decided to go visit the man in the infirmary. He closed the laptop and put it under his arm. He had just finished downloaded a new action flick, something he knew Sheppard would enjoy. Who knew, maybe today would be the day he would start acting like himself. He stopped by the mess hall and grabbed a chocolate donut, Sheppard's favorite. He made his way into the quiet infirmary, and sat down by the Colonel's bed. The man was sleeping, but not restfully. Rodney could tell by the creases around his eyes, and the way his pupils moved around wildly under his eyelids. Rodney considered waking him up, but decided today was not the day he wanted to be throat-punched. He sat back in his chair, just keeping his friend company. Suddenly Sheppard screamed and jolted upright, panting. Rodney fell backwards and almost wet his pants. John's eyes tracked wildly around the infirmary, settling on Rodney as he slowly stood. "John, it's me Rodney," he said quietly. "It's okay, you're safe. You're in the infirmary."

Sheppard blinked a few times and tried to ease his breathing. His little kitten popped out of nowhere and sat on his lap, purring. Rodney immediately noticed the Colonel relax. He stood there awkwardly until Sheppard met his gaze nervously. "Sorry," he whispered. "I'll try not to do it again." Rodney stared at him in shock. "John, I don't care if you do it again. What I care about is you getting healthy. I want you to talk to me. Tell me how I can help you. _Please."_

The Colonel shuddered, and seemed to retreat back inside his shell. "Don't wanna talk, jaw hurts," he mumbled, burying his head in his pillow. Rodney sighed and dropped back into the chair. "I'll stay and keep you company then. You don't have to talk until you are ready," he said encouragingly. Sheppard's eyes looked haunted as he watched Rodney type away on his laptop. The scientist didn't look up on purpose. He could feel those haunted eyes taking in his every move. It felt weird knowing that Sheppard didn't trust anyone at the moment. Not even Ronon or Teyla. How anyone could be distrustful of Teyla boggled his mind. Ronon on the other hand. . . that man was downright scary. He heard Sheppard sigh quietly and sag further into his pillow. His trembling voice brought Rodney's head up quickly. "They beat me," he whispered. "Day after day. If I didn't say please, if I didn't ask the right way, if I even lifted my head without permission." A slight sob wracked his body, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Rodney gulped and felt a swirl of anger, guilt and regret building. "I'm sorry we didn't come for you. We tried everything."

Sheppard nodded carefully, his eyes still closed. "I know. There's not any way you could've. They were careful." McKay cleared his throat, hoping John would continue. When he didn't, Rodney ventured to ask. "How did you escape?" Sheppard paled noticeably and turned his head away. "Rodney please. I can't. . . ."

McKay leaned closer and carefully placed his hand on Sheppard's sweating arm, forcing himself to ignore the way it flinched away from him. "John, listen to me. You're my best friend in the whole world okay? I want to help you. Please let me."

Sheppard's red, puffy eyes met his and Rodney's heart broke at the emotions displayed in them. Fear, distrust, pain. He tried to smile back encouragingly. Sheppard's kitten crawled over to Rodney and plopped herself on his arm. She looked back at John, tilting her head at him. She meowed loudly at him, and followed that with a loud purr. John from her to Rodney, and took a shuddering breath. "I killed them," he said bitterly. "All of them. Stabbed one. Broke a neck. Shot few more. I shot the guy who beat me the most, and he begged for mercy." He said that last part with utter contempt dripping from his words. Rodney met his eyes, and said quietly, "And?"

Sheppard's gaze dropped to his hands, and he blinked more tears away. "I shot him between the eyes. Point blank." A tumultuous silence stretched between them, the occasional hitched breath from Sheppard was the only sound. Rodney wrestled internally with what to say, but finally he decided on, "Good. He deserved nothing less."

John's broken gaze looked up again. He seemed to be grateful for Rodney's assurance that he did the right thing. But it still didn't feel right. He sank into his pillow, wanting to disappear. After a few moments Rodney cleared his throat. "How did you find her?" he asked, petting the kitten's head. John's eyes brightened considerably, and he looked slightly less miserable. "She saved me in way," he whispered. "I know that sounds loony. But she did. It was about 8 days before I made it back. They had just beaten me and thrown me back in that cell." He paused with a shaky breath, then continued. "It just hurt too much to be awake, and I didn't want to live anymore. . . " the sob that wracked his body tore at Rodney's heart, and he gripped Sheppard's arm tighter. The Colonel seemed to gather the strength to the keep going, and he wiped his eyes. "I was just lying there, miserable. And suddenly she was there, licking my face. I couldn't believe it. The next day they tried to take her from me. I didn't let that happen," he finished matter-of-factly. Rodney chuckled a little. "I bet you didn't," he agreed. "How long did it take you to reach the gate?" he asked. Sheppard grimaced, and scooted up a little. "Two days. I think. I don't really know exactly. I was kinda out of it." He looked at the kitten again. "She kept me going. I don't know how, but she did." He even managed a small chuckle. "She even told me when we got to the gate," he added fondly, scratching her ears. His efforts were rewarding with loud happy purrs. He sighed, then look at Rodney again. "Thank you," he whispered nervously. "For listening I mean. I just couldn't hold it in anymore."

McKay cleared his throat. "Well, you're welcome. I mean you're my friend, I'm here for you. But you know, Elizabeth will want you to talk to Dr Heightmeyer."

Sheppard nodded knowingly. "I would've insisted on that myself if she didn't. I know I'm not 100% yet. But I know I'll get there eventually." McKay nodded confidently. "That you will. And all of us will be here every step of the way."

John smiled, his first genuine smile in almost two months. He nodded gratefully. He was finally home.

3 more weeks passed, and Dr Beckett was content to release John from the infirmary, on the strict rule that he stay in his quarters, or with a member of his team at all times. Sheppard didn't argue, because he knew it was for the best. He still had nightmares, but they were getting both less intense and less frequent. He had meetings with Dr Heightmeyer every few days, and he could tell they were helping. He didn't jump when someone came up behind him anymore. He wasn't wary about everyone who looked at him. And most importantly, he was able to trust his team again. He sat in between Ronon and Teyla as they had team movie night. Rodney had surprised him with his early birthday present: a supercharged 1967 Mustang remote control car, earlier that day. He was thrilled with the thing, and he and Ronon had taken turns racing it around his quarters. His kitten lay curled on his lap, purring her little heart out. His team had taken to her immediately, and Rodney called her their team mascot. He was still amazed at how attached he was to her; his anxiety always went up a notch when she wasn't around. But Drs Beckett and Heightmeyer had seemed confident that with medication, time and support, he would recover completely. Rodney interrupted his musings. "Have you thought of a name for her yet? I mean it's kind of silly for us to keep calling her 'cat,'" he said succinctly. Sheppard looked around at all of them. "I'm gonna call her Atlantis. Because she saved me."


End file.
